


You'll know when you get there

by megyal



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-18
Updated: 2008-05-18
Packaged: 2017-10-28 10:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megyal/pseuds/megyal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A warm and cuddly first time moment (kind of).</p>
            </blockquote>





	You'll know when you get there

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a prompt, which was this photo: [Urban Study - Midtown Motel](http://kissablyliterate.deviantart.com/art/urban-study-midtown-motel-81735652).

Patrick was tired; that kind of tired where you just stand around stupidly, blinking at the tiny room with its tinier beds, while your band-mates staggered about, throwing down their bags and rooting around for toothbrushes and maybe a change of clothes. Or in Pete's case, actual underwear he'd put on because he was going commando under his tight jeans at that very moment.

 _Why would a dude wear jeans so tight?_ Patrick wondered to himself, blinking and swaying. _What's the point of wearing jeans so tight? Your fucking balls don't get a chance to breathe, right? He looks good in them, we're not arguing that. Pete has a very nice ass, for such a scrawny guy. Very nice ass. In tight jeans, but why would you wear--_

"Patrick," Andy said, snapping his fingers in front of Patrick's face. His expression was a mixture of amused and concerned as Patrick jumped a little. "Dude. Bed. Take that one."

"Ok." Patrick shuffled over and just kind of melted unto the bed, which smelled funny. Usually, Patrick was very particular about smells. He'd always maintained that since he had slightly weird vision, the rest of his senses had to be enhanced, take over when necessary. So he had a really sensitive nose; when Pete had heard that, he had jokingly punched Patrick in said nose, very lightly, but that had pissed Patrick off to the point where he had lifted his foot and tried to kick Pete in the stomach. Andy had thrown bits of fries at them as they kicked each other under the table of the fast-food restaurant they had been in, while Joe had been censorious: "Seriously, can't you two just fucking _behave_?"

"Move over," Joe told him now, poking him sharply in the shoulder. Patrick made a tremendous effort, and ended up shifting about half an inch. " _Move_. Hey, did you brush your teeth?"

"Fuck my teeth," Patrick mumbled into the pillow. "I don't care."

"Wait 'til you get to sixty, you'll be like, 'Oh, _why_ didn't I listen to Joseph when I was young and foolhardy, on a crazy tour in a crazy band. I should have brushed my teeth! Now, I have but one.' Get up. Go brush your teeth."

"What the _fuck_?" Patrick spat, sitting up and glaring. His hat had slipped off, and his hair stuck in all directions. "Are you my mother? Andy tells me to lie down, you tell me go brush my teeth. What the fuck is Pete gonna tell me, drink piss? _No_ ," he stressed as Pete ran out of the bathroom with a gleam in his eye. "I was just saying hypothetical things, _shit_."

"I hate when you do that, you give me ideas and then take them away." Pete looked mournful for three seconds, and then gave Patrick a thoughtful look. "You know, nobody would look at you and think that you curse like that. You look so adorable on-stage and then you get off and talk like a tiny pirate."

"Know what I hate?" Patrick said as he dug into his bag, trying to find his toothbrush and hoping Pete hadn't done anything to it. "I hate when you call me tiny. You're about an inch taller than me, Pete. Give me a fucking break."

"So cute," Pete said mockingly as he pulled a pillow out of Andy's hands and rolled into bed with it, snuggling it close. Andy yanked it away, gave him a solid bop on the head with it, before clambering over him to settle in. For some reason, Andy liked having the wall-side. "Go brush your teeth, Little Long John. And turn off the lights when you're done."

"No, leave the bathroom light on," Joe murmured sleepily. "Ok?"

"Yeah, yeah." Patrick went in and found the toothpaste that Joe had left out; almost done, they'd have to pick up a new one after their next location tomorrow. If he looked out the window, he could probably see the van they traveled in parked in the small parking lot of the hotel. Last night, they had slept in the basement of someone who was in one of the bands they had shared the stage with; that had been nice, they had gotten coffee and pancakes in the morning. A sudden wave of homesickness had crashed over Patrick when he'd been eating the pancakes and for a minute, he'd thought about telling Pete that he wanted to go home, he was so tired, he wasn't sleeping properly because he wasn't in his own bed, and he didn't want to turn out like Pete from insomniac-induced crazy.

Then he'd eaten a second pancake and felt better about the whole thing. Sometimes, pancakes could make the whole world better.

Joe was already fast asleep when he crept back into the room, his snores soft; Andy's eyes slitted open and then closed immediately when Patrick closed the bathroom door almost all the way. In the sliver of light that remained, Patrick could see Pete's eyes glittering at him; Patrick ignored him as he pushed Joe over and lay down at the edge, of the bed, sighing when he realised that Joe had hogged the thin pillows. He could see Pete's teeth flash at him quickly in the semi-dark when he yanked one from under Joe's head; Joe grumbled, but didn't wake up.

"Night, me matey," Pete whispered in the worst pirate accent ever. Patrick grunted, and tried to sleep.

 **:: ::**

Another long, mind-numbing drive, in which Patrick dozed for nearly three-quarters of the trip, and got Cheeze Nips pushed down the front of his shirt for his negligence.

Another show. It hadn't been bad and Pete had declared that they had time and so deserved another night in a motel; Andy had been relieved, for he had been on driving duty and looked fairly exhausted himself. Patrick had eyed the facade of the building nervously, but sighed and entered to find Pete chatting up the monotonous girl at the counter.

"One room," the girl said in a tired, slow voice. She looked as if she was barely existing and Patrick's imagination drummed up a perfect little horror movie in which the motel was a malignant entity sucking the life out of all who came near. Her eyes flickered over Pete's tattoos as he leaned against the counter and gave her his version of a flirtatious smile. "For all y'all?"

"Yeah," Pete said. "We're on a budget. Although, if you want, you can give us an extra room, out of the goodness of your heart. Not like this place is packed, you know?"

"One room," the girl said firmly as she flipped open a ragged book and peered into it. "Got your key, right here."

"Thanks," Joe told her, and she stared at him for a long moment before giving him a tired smile.

"Please don't put me and Patrick in the same bed," Joe begged when they opened the room and found it passable. "He kicks like a fucking donkey."

"I don't!" Patrick said indignantly, letting his bag slip from his fingers, feeling the straps pass over the callouses on his palm.

"You do," Andy confirmed. "And you keep wriggling, it's annoying."

"He does?" Pete had settled on a bed already, going through the text messages on his cell-phone. He frowned a little at one and rolled his eyes before he tapped out a quick reply.

"Yeah," Andy said over the rapid sound of Pete's fingers. "Which is why you get the Kung Fu master tonight."

Pete stopped typing instantly and looked up at them with a strangely closed expression. "We've never shared before," he said blandly, and Patrick stared at him, feeling the corners of his mouth pull down.

"Wow, Pete. Your enthusiasm, it's so welcoming." He was putting himself in a dark mood, he knew that, but Patrick found that he couldn't help it. It wasn't like he was immune to Pete's charms, anyway. He was just better than most at being practical about it.

"Look, it's not--"

"Whatever," Patrick snapped, and for the first time in a long time, he was first to use the bathroom, first to get into bed and curl up as tightly as he could. He heard the soft conversation, exhausted laughter as Joe tried to exhibit some crazy spin he was going to try out, Andy's complaints about his tuning his kit and Pete going through his ever-present sheaf of untidy notes. He lay there, listening to them and trying hard not to smile, and he was a little surprised to find himself half asleep when the light snapped off and Pete slid gingerly in beside him.

He came back all the way instantly, aware of the way Pete was carefully leaving a no-man's-land of space between them. He set his mouth and tried hard to go back to sleep.

Joe's snores started up and he felt a grim satisfaction at Andy's proximity to the buzzing noise. Now and again, the room would be lit up by headlights from passing cars and his head began to throb as the minutes ticked by and sleep remained elusive.

He sighed, and stared at the wall in front of his nose, trying to count the imperfections in the paint. He reached seventy-one, and lost count as he felt a hesitant touch at the curl of his ear.

He tried to keep his breathing calm as Pete's fingers trailed a delicate path down to the lobe, and then tickled along the side of his neck. Pete's thumb was rubbing circles at the back of his neck, while the rest of his fingers pressed a chord near Patrick's quickening pulse.

Patrick rolled over to face him and stared at Pete as he snatched his hand away. They lay there, looking at each other in the dark, the bathroom light barely any help. A car rushed outside, and a rapid slice of light raced across Pete's face, revealing his pensive expression.

"Sorry," Pete whispered.

"For what?" Patrick whispered back.

Pete smiled a little, a tiny quirk of his mouth that Patrick could hardly make out. "For... you know. Copping a feel."

"You call _that_ copping a feel?" Patrick waited for the sharp reply, but there was none. He wriggled a little closer and Pete watched him carefully. "Why would you want to, anyway? Oh, it's probably something you do on a regular basis," he finished, answering his own question with a frown.

Pete shook his head. "Dude, what do you take me for? Some rampant bed-sharing friend-fondler? You offend me, kind sir." A flash of teeth in the dark and then Pete reached out, patting Patrick on the cheek companionably. "But, seriously. Sorry. Won't do it again."

Patrick caught his hand before he could move it and put it back, feeling the fingers twitch in surprise against his cheekbone. He heard Pete draw a quick, quiet breath as he turned his face a little, his lips brushing at the dry skin of Pete's palm. He kept a firm grip around Pete's wrist, raising himself on one elbow a little to look over at the other bed. Joe was sprawled out luxuriously on his back, one arm and leg flung over Andy, who was tucked in neatly near the wall as usual. Patrick bit his lower lip and then looked down at Pete's dark eyes.

"Ok," he murmured, and then bent to press his mouth right against Pete's. He'd never kiss another dude before, but he'd seen Pete do it, and it looked like a fairly simple operation. Pete's lips parted instantly beneath his, and he was surprisingly pliant, stroking at Patrick's tongue with his own as Patrick licked on the inside of his mouth. His wrist was still trapped in Patrick's grasp; Patrick could feel the fine bones as Pete's fingers moved helplessly. It was slow, undemanding kiss and Patrick sighed in contentment, tasting a faint trace of the new brand of toothpaste Andy had insisted on trying out.

"Rampant friend-fondler," he accused breathlessly as Patrick broke away.

"Sorry," Patrick whispered with a grin, feeling his headache start to dissipate like mist in the sun. "Won't do it again."

He turned over again, facing the wall and feeling the bed move as Pete snuggled close. He relaxed completely, his back flush against Pete's chest, Pete's breath warm on the back of his neck. Their legs moved until they were entangled together and Patrick found that it wasn't so hard now, finding the welcome arms of sleep and falling into them.

 _fin_


End file.
